


Heartstrings

by ziegler



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Pharmercy, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:55:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7276231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziegler/pseuds/ziegler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercy and Pharah would follow each other through any sky in any universe; and with the more time they spend together, the more apparent this becomes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heartstrings

I would say that I enjoy my job on a daily basis. In fact, I very much enjoy it these days.  
  
I’d like to add the preface that I always enjoyed it before now; it always helps to have a passion in your career rather than feeling the daily grind sink into your bones. Helping the needy and the vulnerable is truly my passion, as well as patching up my loved ones, and people who try to make the world a better place. Thankfully, the object of my affections is the latter two of those things, and that makes the wings on my cyber-suit flutter during work hours.

I’ve been feeling like a lovestruck schoolgirl ever since the reform of Overwatch. There’s been a certain blue-winged, golden-visored woman that I know to be the daughter of a woman I once worked with, years and years ago, who now very often spends her time with me. We spend all our time together, actually. I believe I have developed very strong feelings for her over the last few months in her company, and that has been more than a welcome development with me.

I admire her. I adore her. I admire her bravery, her strength, and above all else, her determination to do what is right. I admire her, and I find myself wanting to kiss her during the many hours of the night. Naturally, tonight is no different.

We were stationed tonight at the Temple of Anubis; Pharah’s home turf, no less. She knew this place like the back of her hand. She knew every market seller, every street corner, every single window on every floor. The desert may be scorching during the day, but at night, it is quite sombre, quiet, and freezing cold. My teeth chattered often when we were stationed here, often a little too optimistically dressed for a desert night.

The stars are always beautiful here. Absolutely beautiful. Picturesque, perfect, and clear in the night sky, with no light pollution to be found. I find myself watching Pharah’s visor sometimes, seeing the stars reflect off of the surface, and feeling a dreamy, crush-like feeling in my stomach that reminds me of being a teenager again. It is rare these days on my job when I’m not daydreaming about lifting up her visor and kissing her lips.

“What are you thinking about, Angela?”

I was immediately snapped out of my thoughts by her dulcet tones.

“Oh!” I reply, startled, and I can see her contemptuous look from under her visor. “Nothing, I was just zoning out again. You know me, always having my head in my work!”

“I’m sure.” she replied flatly, with a knowing smirk of ‘that wasn’t what you were thinking about at all, was it?’, and I grinned at her in reply.

She sighed a heavy sigh, before pressing the release clutch of her helmet and taking it off next to her.

“You need to be careful in the desert, you know. Each time we come here you get hurt, or cold, or something happens to you. Please be careful.”

“Aw, are you worried about me?” I teased cheekily, watching as Pharah blushed and looked away.

“No. You _can_ take care of yourself. I am perfectly aware of that, you know.”

“You’re just a big softie at heart, Pharah.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she remarked quickly, waving her hand at me dismissively. I laughed. “I’d prefer to talk about other things, if you don’t mind. Anything else, in fact.”

I chuckled, and we both sat with our backs to a windowless wall, atop a connecting archway near to the fountain plaza. We were staking out the inside of the temple; waiting atop a good spot for Pharah to launch her rockets, and for me to be able to safely heal and prepare a damage buff for her offense. We often talked strategy, safety first, and above all else, prioritise the mission. I was a little surprised that she had taken off her helmet so boldly when we were supposedly so close to the clutches of Talon.

“Your helmets off, soldier. Why is that?”

“That’s a good observation there, Ziegler.” she retorted wittily, before laughing at her own joke. “I just wanted to feel the desert wind on my face, that’s all. Can’t I relax next to you?”

I felt touched, and I smiled with concern.

“You know you always can. I just don’t want Widowmaker to headshot you.”

“Headshot _me_? How little you must think of me!” Pharah retorted, almost insulted at me, before she folded her arms. “Well even if I did get hit, you could just heal me, could you not?”

“I’m not a miracle worker!” I replied indignantly, as she laughed to herself at my sulking.

I felt my heart grow warm amidst the sands. I had never seen her smile so much.  She looked like she was actually enjoying herself amidst the stars of the night sky, smiling such a gorgeous, handsome smile right at me, and her beautiful onyx gaze pouring into my skin.

I felt the tug of a smile pull at the edges of my lips, and a not entirely newfound closeness to her since our first meeting months and months back. I almost initially thought she might be a problem to work with; but I, thankfully, could not have been more wrong.

I thought back fondly on our first meeting, as I sat with her in the comfortable dark of the stars.

 

“Angela,” Winston stated to me months ago, in the brightness of the well-lit meeting room. “This is Fareeha Amari. Naturally as you are the medic, she’ll be spending a lot of time at your side.”

At the other end of the table in the room was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

She was rigidly strong. I could see the muscles on her arms loosely through the material of her shirt, and her face was - and still is - so handsome. The tattoo across her eye made her all the more alluring; a beautiful face with defined charms. She maintained her chin slightly pointing upwards in a respectful manner, saluting at Winston and myself.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Ziegler. Please call me Pharah from now on.”

“Of course,” I replied, enchanted. “You may call me Angela or Mercy. Formally I’m known as Mercy, but…regardless, I’m pleased to meet you, Pharah.”

Winston smiled, and nodded at Pharah to be at ease.

“Is there anything you’d like to say before I let you get on?”

I remember Pharah pausing for a moment; and I watched her thoughts play out in her head. She wanted to say something that would make a definitive statement, to let both her soon-to-be close co-worker and boss know just what she was about; and I watched her eyes light, as she finally found the words she wanted to say.

_“I will protect the innocent.”_

“Angela,” Pharah said, during current time. “You’ve zoned out again.”

I blinked, and turned to look at her.

“I haven’t zoned out just yet!” I replied, with a smile. “I was just thinking, about how long we’ve known each other now.”

“Oh, really?”

“Do you enjoy our time together, Pharah?”

“Hm?” she replied, puzzled, and a little shy. She rubbed the back of her neck, and looked away from me towards the skies. “What kind of question is that?”

“Well, do you?”

“…Well, I…” she began, and had it not been such a dark night, I would have sworn I saw her blushing next to me. “Of course I do!”

“Good,” I replied, and rest my head on her shoulder. “Because I very much do too.”

And for the rest of that night, we sat, without any evidence of Talon’s appearance at all, but instead evidence of a new kind. She held my hand in her lap, and after a shy pause, rest her head against mine.

I felt a tenseness about her; a tension not to do with myself, or our affection that had grown over the last few months, but instead a tension involving her eyes always watching. She was watching intently at the temple, even amidst the impromptu, unquestioned and mutual affection. I always knew that Pharah was serious about two things; her principles, and her job. And she was never going to allow something like her personal feelings get in the way of that.

The next few weeks came and went after that night. Our affection grew with each moment.

We spent more and more time together, both inside and outside of work. Glances down corridors, messages about how she couldn’t sleep at night. My face lit up whenever my telecom lit up the room with a notification of her.

We were assigned on every mission together, almost every single time. There were only one or two missions in the six or seven weeks that followed where we weren’t together; for the first, I got stationed to go with Tracer to inspect signs of Widowmaker around the Greek island of Ilios; whilst on the second, I also got assigned to accompany D.va to Volskaya Industries, in order to pick up more materials for forging weapons. Being with D.va was certainly a unique experience compared to Pharah, having Hana in my ear barking about her latest ventures on StarCraft. Still, you know what they say; absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Whenever my ship landed back at the headquarters, Pharah always smiled at me when I returned. She was always waiting nearby, as though she’d checked to see when I’d be back. Whenever I saw her, my heart fluttered as she greeted me. And after a short while, I knew every time she appeared in front of me that I was in love.

“Let’s fly the skies together again, shall we?” she asked me proudly, upon my last return.

I smiled wordlessly, brightly and affectionately at Pharah that there was no mistaking the feelings I held for her, to myself, or anyone. She was precious to me, like a jewel; refined and hardened, but so beautiful to look at. I treasured her, and I treasured every moment spent. It was nice to at least dare to hope that she felt the same way.

I knew Pharah’s nature pretty well, and I knew how cold and professional she was to the others. I think everybody else knew we were interested in each other purely from the fact Pharah could stand to be around me for more than five minutes.

Upon the return of my second mission was when I began to realize how deep we both were in.

Pharah and I hadn’t spoken for a few days. In Volskaya, the radioactivity and radiowaves from all of the factories and ship signals scuppers the communication line to anywhere not in the immediate area – therefore making it a dangerous place beyond compare. D.va and I were, of course, fine, but I knew Pharah was worried.

I arrived back at the port, and I saw her. She wasn’t just waiting up the stairs, or in the café or somewhere close by the port. She was literally waiting at the dock for us to land, right there next to Winston, and she looked so excited to see me. I could tell she was trying to keep a lid on her excitement, but that just made my sheer adoration even further.  
  
I waved, excited like a little girl, and she held up her hand in some half-assed attempt at “casual” greeting. I even noticed Winston smiling next to her, clearly aware this was not the 'standard' Pharah behaviour, and waiting for the ship door to open felt like an eternity.

“Welcome home, Miss Ziegler.”

She took me by the hand, and I clasped it, smile worn on my lips and the curves of my eyes. She led me down the ramp daintily, and I laughed bashfully.

“Oh my, Miss Amari. You’re embarrassing your poor doctor!”

She smiled without another word, and pulled me close to her with a warm embrace. D.va clearly got the message and scarpered pretty quickly, or perhaps she just wanted to get back to her videogames. Whichever the case, I was grateful. Winston docked the ship properly himself, and also knew to give us a little bit of space.

“I missed you.” I stated, and shivered a little with the adrenaline of seeing her. I rested my other hand on her shoulder, as she placed her hands on my waist.

“I missed you too.” she replied bashfully, and I smiled with satisfaction and quite a delirious happiness. She cleared her throat, and tried to maintain her professional sense of self, but knew she was failing massively. “Actually, Angela…I wanted to talk to you about something on the assignment tonight. Are you okay for midnight at the Temple? Our usual spot.”

I grinned at us having a ‘spot’ together.

“Of course.”

“Good.” she said calmly, and let go of my waist gently. “I’ll meet you there. Sorry if I’m late, Tracer wanted me to help her repair her guns, and Torbjorn’s always out on a mission, as far as I know.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl. If I’m not there at midnight though, then assume something’s happened to me, okay?”

“Hey.” Pharah said quickly. “Don’t say that.”

Her tone was on edge, and sharp when she replied. I was taken aback. It was defensive, offended almost, that I would insinuate such a thing. She noticed my surprised expression, and relaxed a little.

“Sorry…I didn’t mean to be brash.” she replied quietly. “I don’t like thinking about something happening to you. So don’t let it.”

Soon, midnight arrived, and I shivered in the cold winds of the night.

My teeth were chattering loudly, and I was rubbing my arms vigorously to keep warm. I could hear the voices of those who were still awake and chatting in their rooms around the centre, and the looming presence of the temple seemed especially noticeable tonight. I had arrived punctually early, unable to restrain my nerves of seeing her once again, and clasped my healing rod tightly in my hand.

I wanted to say so much to her. I couldn’t keep my feelings for her unspoken any longer, and not especially when we were obviously so deeply attached anyway. If she rejected me, I would be surprised, and that made me feel very warm inside. I knew she would be mine by the night’s end. I just had to work up the courage to tell her.

“Where is she…” I mumbled impatiently under my breath, before I felt a hand on my shoulder.

But the moment I felt the hand, it was too late.

I knew it wasn’t Pharah’s hand. The touch was too cold. It was icy, almost deathly, as though happiness had never dwelled in the household of whoever it was. I felt the prickle of alarm and utter, complete despair all at once; it was the most peculiar feeling; and before I could even raise the alarm that something was wrong, I felt…drowsy.

My head developed a piercing sensation down the back of my skull, and my nostrils stung, like when you smell something too bitter to enjoy, as though it were a marker pen or some kind of chemical. I felt myself slump onto the floor, and the lights in my eyes went out. I could no longer stay awake.

“Ph…arah…”

The last thing I saw before I passed out were the stars in the sky.

 

“…gela…Angela…Angela, wake up! God, please wake up!”

“…”

My eyes flickered awake, and I looked up to see the woman I had been so longing to see holding me in her arms.

But something was not right, not quite as I had pictured waking up in them.

Her visor was down, and I couldn’t see her eyes. Her demeanour was totally different. She was so tense, I could tell that much even from just waking up, and her hands were gripping to me like…death. She was _terrified_. That was what it was…the usual jobsworth, the sterling, stalwart sentinel of a woman, Fareeha Amari, was absolutely terrified.  
  
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I began to realize more about our surroundings. I could hear gunfire, and I could hear explosions off in the far distance. I could hear cockney shouting off somewhere in the room next to us, and the all too familiar sound of a sniper rifle going off. There was the sound of Zarya shouting angrily before an explosion, Tracer zipping around and other, much loved and recognized voices of mine and Pharah’s comrades.

“Pharah…” I spoke softly with relief, and she pulled me tight against her chest, and yet, so gently. “What happened?”

“I thought I lost you,” she borderline wept, clasping me to her cold armour. “I really…I really thought I’d lost you, Angela.”

I was overwhelmed with emotion, but no strength to competently express my feelings. I wanted to tell her in so many ways that she’d never lose me. I would fight to come back forever if it meant I could see her smiling, just one more time. I didn’t feel like I was on the cusp of death, though, and for that I was exceptionally grateful.

“Pharah…I’m okay. It’s okay.” I spoke softly against her cheek, and held her close to me, despite a lack of any real strength. “What…happened here? Who did this to me?”

The question was simple enough, but I began to hear wracked sobs from next to me.

I winced painfully, the other kind of painful that I felt deep in my heart, and tears stung my eyes at Pharah's plight. She took a breath, refusing to allow me to hear the emotion at least, and steeled her will once more.

“You got poisoned by Widowmaker’s Venom Mine,” she began, her voice still trembling. She was also refusing to let me see her face as she spoke. “And they – Talon…brought you through here to the back end of the Temple as a bargaining piece. They wanted Doomfist, once and for all, so we brought a Replica whilst hiding the one at the museum in case anyone checked…and naturally, all hell ensued. You’ve been knocked out for nearly 4 hours.”

“Four hours?” I exclaimed in shock and horror. “I was _poisoned_? Me?!”

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” She began, getting back some of her composure. “I’m just relieved that you’re okay.”

She trailed off near the end, and slammed her armoured fist into the ground as she held me.

“God, damn it!” she exclaimed angrily, and held me close once more. “I will destroy every one of those…those Talon bastards!”

Both of us were locked in what seemed like an eternal embrace. I had never felt such raw emotion, such passion from her, about anything on the battlefield. My heart was racing and my head was spinning, and it certainly wasn’t from whatever Widowmaker tried to do to me.

I leant back from her a little to see her face, and Pharah didn’t try to move. I felt as though a little of my strength had come back now; I could move myself, ever so slightly, and my vision had regained almost completely. I placed my hands gently either side of her visor, and lifted it from her face.

Her eyes were wet with her tears, from fear and rage. Her lip was almost quivering, but I could see that her pride point blank refused to let her. She looked at me, wordlessly, with a look that said a thousand words to me.

I leaned up to kiss her. God, I wanted to kiss her every day as it was, but now especially. I couldn’t mistake her actions. This was more than just being upset for a colleague. Pharah was notorious for leaving her comrades in arms _behind_ in battle, in this very place, no less.

But here she was, sat with me in such close proximity, tight in her arms, and her lips within kissing distance.

I didn’t care about whatever was going on outside. I didn’t care that I had been poisoned, or that Widowmaker had tried to kill me, and probably _could_ have, if she hadn’t wanted something in return. I just wanted to kiss the woman holding me in her arms.

Pharah almost resigned herself to kissing me too; her eyes flickered, and I could smell her perfume even just against her neck.

“Not here,” she murmured softly, “Not here. We deserve better than to have our first kiss here.”

The temple rumbled. Bits of broken rock fell from the ceiling, and the dust made me cough. Pharah looked immediately alerted, and swept me up in her arms. I felt giddy, and it wasn’t from the poison in my system.

“We need to get out of here, now!” Pharah yelled into the communicator on her helmet, slamming her visor down. “Mercy is alive, and awake! Let’s go!”

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?!” Tracer remarked happily, and I smiled at Pharah, warmly and weakly.

Pharah made an exasperated expression, and ran, flew even, with me in her arms back to the shuttle.

 

The drama had passed, and I could stand.

We were alone, in my medical room, together. Surrounded by the smell of an incense burner I lit hours ago to calm my nerves, ironically, and the ambience of fresh shades of teal along the wall and white tiles beneath our feet. Pharah drew the curtains as I walked in, before taking her helmet off and switching on the lights. I was thankful that as well as being a makeshift medical room, it had a spare bedroom, bathroom, and even a fridge with refreshments inside, in case anybody needed boosts of sugar.

I locked the door behind me. Every single action Pharah and I were making felt like minutes were going by instead of mere milliseconds. I just wanted to press my lips against hers. My desire was driving me insane.

Upon arrival and after a fairly long ship ride, I was able to move again. Pharah had carried me in her arms all the way to the Overwatch base, which admittedly I had let her do for the last section, and placed me gently on the floor.

“I’m going to change into my clothes,” was the first thing she said to me when we arrived, and she was smiling. She was much calmer, much more like usual, but was smiling a different kind of smile than the usual smug, proud aura she held around her; it was warm. Gentle. It was a smile that seemed grateful.

I nodded in reply, and smiled back softly.

“Okay. Me too, then.”

We changed out of our battle armour in respectively different rooms. My joints felt rigid and stiff from the toxic smoke previously, and amidst my sharp intakes of breath and winces of pain, I changed into my usual attire. I pulled back the curtain from the rack, and Pharah walked out of the spare room at the same time.

I smiled, and she smiled back. I knew she wouldn’t talk first in a situation like this. I walked over to her, and got in as close to her personal space as I could without being overly pushy.

 “We’re alone at last.”

“We are.” she replied, and smiled confidently. “You should come a little closer.”

My heart began to race, and I didn’t make any attempt to hesitate at the offer. She was so handsome that it drove me crazy.

She wrapped her arms around my waist, and feeling her embrace around me felt like heaven. It felt so strongly as though we’d already broken the romantic ice, already confessed all about how we felt for one another, we’d done all the beginning emotions. It felt natural and good and… _right_. God, it felt so right. Whenever I was with other women previously, I was interested, but…never to this degree.

“What are you thinking about, Angela?” Pharah familiarly asked me, with the confident smirk that I knew so well, and I cupped her face with my hands.

“Why don’t you tell me instead what _you’re_ thinking about?”

She smiled at me, and her nose touched mine softly.

“What I am always thinking about now.”

And then we kissed.

Pharah was a fantastic kisser. She was so passionate that it surprised even me. I could feel everything in between our kisses, every electric touch, every emotion, every thought and word and sense we wanted to express with our bodies pressed to one another. I _knew_ it was too soon to sleep together, but god, I just wanted to have her entirely in that moment. I was overcome with such carnal desire that I wanted her to go all the way in that instance.

Our kissing got very heated, very fast, and very intense. Her hands made their way up to my ponytail, and I felt her pull at the hair grip to loosen it. Her breathing against my lips was driving me insane in the best, most sensual way I had ever felt.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I breathed against her, and I could tell she was being driven wild. She didn’t say a word, but she pulled me even closer against her to kiss her harder.

My hands crawled up her back to feel her muscles, and I heard her moan for the first time. She stumbled in our kiss after realizing her so-called ‘mistake’, and rested her forehead against mine as we gasped for breath.

“S…Sorry.” she stammered out, and I blinked in surprise.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m not…used to being so…”

I smiled against her lips, kissing her again, and stroked her skin. She was burning up, and I held her tight. The tables had turned from the confident, smug lesbian that was Fareeha Amari to me, Angela Ziegler, the humble doctor, who was definitely the one putting on more of the moves.

“We can take it slower if you want.” I said with a smile, and she looked even more sheepish. I was puzzled.  

“That’s the thing, I…” she began, and then placed a hand either side of my face. “I don’t want to take it slow.”

I realized what she meant, and both of us blushed a little, laughing almost coyly, despite the realization of what we’d just confessed.

“I don’t want to take it slow either.” I replied, shaking my head.

Pharah didn’t say another word in conversation after that.

We kissed again, and the moment our lips touched, the undiluted, lustful nature was renewed. Her fingers fiddled at my blouse’s buttons to the point she just tore it downwards, and I pulled her t-shirt over her head quicker than I can even remember it.  
  
When her lips found their way to my neck, I let out involuntary moans and wrapped my legs around her waist, and felt her press her body, hard, between my legs.

It was obvious to me from how fluid her movements were that she wasn’t inexperienced sexually, but that both of us had never quite felt this way before. I didn’t want to stop. God, I _couldn’t_ stop even if I wanted to.

We fell back against the wall first, and my back didn’t even register the cold of the painted brick against it. I forced Pharah to switch places, putting her against the wall herself as I kissed up and down her neck; I could taste her perfume and the salt of her skin.

She let out a gasp of pleasure, and I could barely contain myself. We fell back on the bed after kissing even more intensely against a wall, and I grabbed at her hips.

“More,” I breathed against her lips as we kissed furiously, and I placed a hand on her wrist to guide her downwards. Pharah didn’t object, or even question if I was sure; she knew.

"Angela..." she breathed against my ear, and I was unable to stay still against her body.

Pharah slipped a hand underneath the line of my underwear, and slid her fingers inside me, kissing my jawline, listening to me moan, and feeling me buck up against her hips. I heard her making satisfied moans against my ear which drove me even more crazy, as I let her fuck me just as hard as she wanted to, until she made sure I finished with a scream; and I did just the same to her for a long while.

Eventually, we were exhausted. I was breathless, laying on top of her broad, chiselled frame, holding her tightly under the covers and feeling her rub my back slowly and softly. Our legs were wrapped around one anothers, and the cotton of the sheet felt cool against my back. The electric clock off in the distance was flashing red and telling me it was way past a normal bedtime. Pharah looked so content and happy, and I knew I could feel her smiling against my cheek. She kissed my ear.

“Are you feeling better now?” she asked me cockily, and I scoffed.

“I’ll send you my consultation fee. Are you?”

“Never better.” Pharah replied with a smirk, and I leant up against her chest to look at her. “Your healing powers certainly are remarkable.”

I laughed, and stroked her beautiful face in the dim light of the morning outside. Today may have been quite an event in so many ways…and this was definitely, by far, the best part. Perhaps even of my life; and Pharah was definitely a woman that I knew I never wanted to let go of. I’d follow her through the skies, through the universe, if it made her happy.

“We should keep up a healthy amount of that to keep you fit, hm?” I replied to her knowing smile, and she kissed my lips once more.

“I definitely think so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow me on mercyisgay @ Tumblr / cohealer @ Twitter!


End file.
